Draco the Incompetent
by LynstHolin
Summary: FLUFFY DRARRY. I wrote this a few months ago, and waited to upload it because someone was making a comic of it. (To see comic, search deviantART for 'FloraDelaney Locked in') Inside his head, Draco is an intelligent adult. But he cannot keep himself from speaking and acting like a clumsy five-year-old.


"Don't be silly, Draco. No one is staring at you. Come along."

Pansy was just flat-out lying to him. As he followed her into the clerical department of the Ministry, absolutely everyone stared at Draco. Several middle-age ladies exchanged significant looks. As he passed them, he could hear them whisper: "A pity, isn't it? Such a promising young man. Did 'outstanding' in most of his OWLs. Something terrible happened to him in the war, though. A shame, such a handsome boy unmarriageable."

Pansy led him through the desks and to a small office. A sixtyish woman looked up from her work. "Ah, here he is, our new errand boy. How are you today, Draco?" she said in the sort of voice one used for dogs and small children. Of course, dogs and small children were always called by their first names.

_Fine, and how are you, Mrs. Grundy? _"I have an ouchie on my finger," he replied.

Grundy's smile stretched a little further. "Oh, that's too bad, dear. Here, let me pin this on your robes." It was a tin badge. "When you're needed, it will tell you where to go. Do you know where the laundry is?"

_Yes_. "Father told me not to play in there."

"Well, it isn't a good idea. Here, bring this there."

Draco picked up the laundry bag and immediately dropped it. Clothes spilled out of it, and he got down on his knees and hurriedly stuffed them back in. He looked at the floor, too flustered to want to see anyone gawking at him, but he could feel Grundy beaming at him like he was, he was... like he was slow. "Draco, I would like you to know that the Ministry is committed to employing those who have been... adversely affected by the war. We understand that you have limitations, and we will work with them. You will never be fired for something that has to do with your condition. You're among friends here."

Draco had his doubts about the last. As he trudged back through the clerical department, leaving Pansy to her secretarial work, there was an undercurrent of glee among many of the people who stared and whispered. "Got what he deserved," someone hissed. He stumbled over the edge of a rug and heard snickers.

He handed the bag over to a surly house elf in the laundry room (slipping once in a puddle of water and getting the back of his robes wet), then wandered the corridors as he waited for his next task. The badge started to speak. "Walk forward! Left! No, LEFT! Right. The third door down-THE THIRD DOOR, NOT THE SECOND DOOR."

"So that's the new Auror uniform. Very nice." Draco knew that voice. Granger.

"I'm just trying it on. There are still pins in it. You don't think it's too tight?" Harry Potter asked his friend.

Draco froze momentarily in the doorway. When he thought about Potter, he always pictured him as a scrawny little runt with ridiculous hair. He vaguely recalled hearing girls talk in sixth year about how fanciable the Chosen One had grown, but by then Draco had been too concerned with other, grimmer things. During the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco had been in such a haze of fear and misery that he hadn't even noticed how Potter had looked. But he certainly noticed now.

Potter was no longer a runt. In fact, he might actually be a tiny bit taller than Draco. His hair was artfully tousled. The waist-length Auror jacket emphasized his shoulders, while the tailored trousers hugged his slim hips and well-shaped bottom. He was barefoot, for some reason, and even his feet were attractive. When Harry turned to see who was in the doorway, Draco noticed that the forest-green hue of the uniform made the color of Potter's eyes vibrant. "Oh, hello, Malfoy. I'd heard you were starting today. Could you take these papers to Shacklebolt? If you don't remember where his office is, the badge will tell you."

_I know bloody well where his office is; I'm not an idiot_. "I like his office. He has a picture of a kitty."

"Well, yes, a tiger is a kitty, I guess," Potter answered with obvious amusement.

"How are you, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, concern in her brown eyes.

Pity from the girl he had spent years insulting. It brought home just how truly pathetic he looked to others. _I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm not mentally challenged, I'm not brain damaged. I. Am. FINE_. "Do you like kitties?"

"Oh, yes, Draco, I do! I have my own kitty," she said brightly. His first name. He was a child to her.

"I have to go pottie," Draco found himself announcing.

"Oh, you had better hurry, then. You wouldn't want to have an accident." Hermione patted him on the arm.

As he wandered the Ministry, Draco fumed. An 'accident'! As if he was a three-year-old! Merlin, he was not about to wet his pants! He tried to ignore the voice in his head that said that, yes, things had gotten bad enough that he very well might wee himself. And then he forgot all about it when he tripped over his own feet and knocked over three goblins as if they were bowling pins.

Pansy cooked for him every day, of course. She also picked out his clothing and supervised his bath time. "See, I told you it would be all right, Draco. Aren't you glad you have a job?"

Draco closed his eyes as she poured a pitcher of warm water over his head to rinse his hair; if he tried to do it himself, he would get shampoo in his eyes. _Yes, it's wonderful to be self-humiliated constantly in public._ "I saw Harry Potter. He was barefoot. That's naughty. You told me not to go barefoot."

"Yes, that's very naughty of him." Pansy averted her gaze as Draco got out of the tub, though she steadied him so he would not slip. She helped him dry off and slip into pajamas. There was a time when she would have sold part of her soul for a glimpse of him naked, but his condition had turned her feelings for him strictly maternal. He could never have reciprocated her feelings- he had known from an early age that he preferred boys- but her former unrequited desire for him was far better than being seen as an over-sized little boy.

When he climbed into bed, he got hopelessly tangled up in the covers. Pansy freed him, then pulled the blankets up to his chin and kissed him on the forehead. "Love you, baby."

_I'm not your baby_. But the words wouldn't come. It was ungrateful of him, anyway. Pansy's care, and the job she lined up for him, had spared him from a lonely life at Malfoy Manor, being hidden away by his parents. His condition left him isolated mentally; it would be far worse to also be physically isolated, even with the daily (hourly) embarrassment that he experienced. "Mummy," he said.

The Healer steepled her fingers and puffed out her cheeks, exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for your son. We can't find anything physically wrong with him, and we haven't found any evidence of him being cursed. Curses leave a distinctive, lingering malice. I believe that he is reacting to the... trauma that he has been through in the war by becoming a child again. He has mentally retreated to a time when he was happy and free of care. Before..." The Healer's voice trailed off as she glanced at the bit of sleeve that hid the Dark Mark on Draco's forearm. "He has to want to return to adulthood."

"But the clumsiness?" Narcissa said.

"Children are clumsy."

"My son was never a clumsy child," Lucius sniped. "He was a gifted flyer and Quidditch player."

"Muggle psychologists would define it as conversion disorder. After a trauma, sometimes a person has fits, or blindness, or some other neurological symptom with no actual physical cause."

Lucius stood up abruptly, knocking his chair into the wall behind him hard enough to leave a dent. "Your hospital will not be receiving any more donations from us. I will not fund incompetence. Let's get out of here, Narcissa."

"Come along, honey." Narcissa held her hand out to her son, who managed to knock a crystal vase off of the Healer's desk as he stood up. The crash made him cringe.

"It's all right, Draco," the Healer said in a soothing tone. "I know you didn't mean to break it. Would you like a lolly?"

I am not a toddler, you cow. "Yummy!" Narcissa peeled the wrapper off the candy. Before they even made it to the street, he dropped it. I hate lime, anyway. "Waaaah!"

Draco had been sure that life could not possibly get worse. He had been wrong.

_I'm in love with Harry Potter._ The thought hit him seconds before he walked straight into a wall. It was all bloody Granger's fault.

Draco's position as errand boy was unnecessary make-work. It was just charity, really, and most people at the Ministry didn't want use him. He made them uncomfortable. He couldn't blame them, really. A week into his employment, Granger had noticed him moping about in the corridor that led to the cafeteria. "Are you bored, Draco?"

He went to kick at a loose floor tile and nearly sprained his ankle. _Of course I'm bored. I'm as intelligent as you are, but am imprisoned inside my own head._ "Will you play with me?"

"Sorry, sweetheart, I'm very busy. Maybe another time." Granger looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "But I'm sure you'll be too busy to play very, very soon." He had been too put out over 'sweetheart' to really register the rest of what she had said.

Half an hour later, he was summoned by Potter to deliver more papers. Twenty minutes after that, Potter had uniforms that needed to go to the laundry. Fifteen minutes after that, Potter claimed he was too busy to go to the cafeteria and sent Draco to a corner shop to get him a bag of Fritos and a Pepsi. Being out in the Muggle world in his condition was an exercise in humiliation (there was crying, and a nice old lady who led him to the toilet, and a group of mocking teenagers), but he managed to complete the task with the Fritos only a little bit crushed.

"Very good, Malfoy! I knew you could do it all by yourself! Here, have a jelly bean."

_Do you know what else I can do by myself, Potter? Kick the stuffing out of you._ But he really couldn't, of course. "I'm a big boy!"

"Now, could you go to the supply closet and get me some nice new quills?" Most of the quills didn't survive the trip (he got them stuck in an elevator door), but Potter didn't care. He smiled as he sorted the good ones from the generous handful Draco dropped on his desk. "Thank you. That was very helpful. Have another jelly bean."

"You've got to be loving this," someone said. It was that loudmouth Cormac McLaggan. Draco had been less than fond of him ever since the night he had rescued Daphne Greengrass from the smirky bastard's overly-insistent advances. Now here he was, already a Ministry official at twenty.

"What do you mean, McLaggan?" Potter asked, obviously less than thrilled to see his former housemate.

McLaggan hooked a thumb at Draco and snickered. "Seeing your former arch-enemy turned into a retard. My greyhound is smarter than him, and Mr. Whippy-Tail has had his head slammed in a cellar door."

_You only have your position because of your uncle, you puffed-up, empty suit. Your ego's size is in inverse proportion to the size of your intellect_. "I like doggies. Can I play with your doggie?"

McLaggan laughed so hard, he clutched his belly and bent double. Which was why he didn't see the punch coming. He rubbed the side of his head and glared at Potter. "I'll have your job. My uncle is-"

"Yeah, well, I'm Harry effing Potter, and I wouldn't get sacked if I came to work naked and danced a hornpipe." Potter's eyes actually seemed to glow, he was so angry. "I don't tolerate bullies, McLaggan. The past is irrelevant. Picking on Malfoy now when he can't defend himself is vile and cowardly."

In retrospect, it was clear that that was the moment when Draco's crush on Potter started. He was beautiful when he was angry.

McLaggan slouched away, and the rest of the day was uneventful. Potter sent Draco for files, to pick up his newly-laundered uniforms, and to the magical creatures department to give treats to Granger's monster of a pet; Crookshanks was in quarantine after contracting a nasty case of Kneazle measles. Before Draco knew it, it was time to go home.

In the three weeks since then, Potter had basically made Draco his personal errand boy. It was a bit embarrassing, but, in a life that was just one long parade of indignities, that hardly mattered. And people soon learned that Potter wold not tolerate Draco being mocked or gossiped about. The work days went by fast, and at their end, Draco went home with Pansy to their flat where she cooked him supper and sat with him on the couch while he watched silly sitcoms until it was time for him to go to bed. He wasn't sure if he could say that he was happy, but he wasn't utterly miserable.

At least, not until today, when Draco realized that his infatuation with the Chosen One had grown deeper. At first, the attraction had just been physical (that close-fitting uniform, those eyes, that bottom...), but as the weeks passed, Draco became more familiar with Potter's personality. There were those who didn't like the Chosen One's sarcasm and headstrong ways, but Draco knew that, if he were normal, he and Potter would be a perfect couple. Draco could only see being in a relationship with someone who could match him in snark, who would argue with him, who would push back when pushed. Someone who was magnificent when he was angry. Draco wanted a relationship that was passionate in every way, and he knew that was how it would be with Potter._ If only I was normal.  
_  
Potter was famously prickly at work, and prone to getting shouty, but he was unfailingly kind to Draco. It was starting to get on his nerves. He walked to Potter's desk and set down the bottle of ink that he had just fetched. "Very good. Thank you, Malfoy."

_It is not very good, Potter; it's not good at all. It's less than half-full, my robes are ruined, and the mosaic floor just outside the cafeteria will never be the same again. Yell at me, call me incompetent, treat me like you would treat anyone else! Treat me as your equal!_ "Can I have a jelly bean? I was a good boy!"

"Sure thing! Choose carefully." Potter held out the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that he kept in his desk to reward his errand boy. When Draco realized that he had gotten a liver flavored one, he attempted to spit it into the waste basket, but somehow ended up bouncing it off of Potter's left cheek. Potter blinked, then smiled. "It's all right, Malfoy."

_No, it's not all right at all, Potter. I want you to actually SEE me with those beautiful eyes. I want you to take me into those strong arms. I want you to shout at me when I deserve it. I want you to see me as a MAN._ "It was yucky."

As he left on another errand, Draco realized that Potter was the only person to still call him by his last name. But Draco found himself wanting to hear his first name from the Auror's shapely lips... just before they kissed.

"Oi, Malfoy!" Draco turned at the sound of the rough, familiar voice. "You doing better, mate?" Greg Goyle was wearing the uniform of a catering company. It was the day of the Ministry's Halloween party, and preparations were afoot. "I've got to get these trays to a safe place. If I leave 'em in the Atrium, people will get into the food early. Got an idea where these can go?" A shiny flock of covered trays followed behind Goyle, most of them steaming.

_Yes, I know just the place. Follow me._ "Greggie!" Draco involuntarily flung himself onto Goyle, his hug so enthusiastic that he knocked his school-friend over. The two of them hit a couple of the trays, which caused a chain reaction that sent every single one crashing to the floor. Draco gaped at the heaps of mashed potatoes and green beans and sliced roast beef that surrounded them as they sprawled on the floor.

Goyle grabbed Draco by the front of his robes and screamed every obscenity he knew.

_It's not my fault, you dolt._ "Waaaaaah!"

The bigger man gaped as Draco cried like a frightened toddler and let go. "I'm-I'm sorry, Malfoy." He patted Draco on the head with one massive paw. It only made Draco cry harder and louder. _This oaf, this gorilla, this buffoon- he PITIES me_. "I know you're kinda... stupid. I have to remember that I'm the smarter one now."

_THIS CANNOT BE BORNE_. Draco tried to stand up, but slipped on a pile of buttered carrot coins and landed face first in creamed corn. Still wailing, he began to crawl. He had no destination in mind; he just wanted to hide himself away forever. He found a dark corner and rolled into a ball, intending to never move again. He supposed that he would be found by house elves before he died of starvation, but it was worth a try.

"Hey, Malfoy, what's wrong?" Draco opened his eyes to find Potter crouched in front of him. The Auror reached out one hand and gently wiped creamed corn from his face. "It's not the end of the world. It's just food."

_It's not just food. It's my entire pointless life. I love you, but I cannot tell you. Even if I could, physically, I can't, because you would just be filled with pity and disgust._ "I love you. I want a kiss." _Oh, Merlin, NO._ Not this, and not now, while he was coated in gravy and salad dressing.

The reaction that Draco expected didn't come. Instead of recoiling, Potter leaned forward and pressed his lips to Draco's for just a moment. They were warm and soft, and when they left, there was a strange tingle, followed by a flash of pink and blue light. _What was that?_ "What was that?"

Harry touched his mouth. "Some sort of spell breaking, I think."

Draco's mind, as nimble as ever, processed the implications in seconds. _All this time, I was bewitched! The Healers at St. Mungo's are as incompetent as my father says! _"All this time, I was bewitched! The Healers at St. Mungo's are as incompetent as my father says!" He stood up and spun in a circle with his arms out, starting to feel a bit giddy as he realized that his personal hell was through. Potter was standing, too, grinning. Draco impulsively gathered the other man into his arms and kissed him soundly.

When the kiss ended, Potter laughed. "You could have just said 'thank you'."

_But I've been wanting to kiss you for so long_. "But I've been wanting to kiss you for so long."

Potter's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

_Really_. "Really." Draco started laughing from sheer joy.

"Draco Malfoy wants to kiss Harry Potter. Are you sure you're not still bespelled?" Harry's face was a bit flushed.

"Draco, baby, Greg told me what happened. Are you all right?" Pansy had found them. She was costumed as a ferret, of all things.

"Never better," Draco said joyfully. He took Pansy by her hands and spun her around. "It's over! I've been set free!"

Pansy smiled briefly before her face crumbled. She yanked her hands away from Draco's and started to bawl. Potter was on her in a split-second, wand out. "What did you do, Parkinson?"

"I-I don't kn-know what you're t-talking about, " she said, entirely unconvincingly.

"Fine. I'm taking you into custody and holding you until I get permission to use Veritaserum on you. It could take days, and you'll miss the party."

Pansy took a shuddering breath. "I didn't mean for it to happen like it did. When he told me he wasn't attracted to women, I... I went a little crazy. I've been in love with him for so long. I wanted to use Amortentia, but the Ministry crack-down on love potions has made it so expensive. So I... improvised. I mixed some spells together, and there was a potion, and... it didn't work right. I thought- I thought I had permanently damaged him. Please don't hate me, Draco." She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Potter shook his head and lowered his wand. "Do you want to have her prosecuted, Malfoy?"

"No. I'm less than thrilled with her at the moment, but it wasn't done out of malice." Draco rubbed his forehead. Months of suffering, and it was as simple as an irresponsible spell. St. Mungo's did not deserve one Knut more of the Malfoy fortune, that was for sure.

Potter flapped his hand at Pansy. "Go. Fix your make-up before the party starts." Pansy fled, still crying.

"The party," Malfoy said. "It's almost started."

"Are you going?"

"I suppose. You'll have to do a cleaning charm for me, though. It's been a while since I've been allowed to carry a wand."

"I had a date, but he slipped on a pile of spaghetti and broke his ankle. You'll have to be my date, now. You owe me." Potter charmed them both clean in a trice, then held out one arm. "Let's go."

Draco hooked his elbow through Potter's. He couldn't stop grinning like a loon. This was shaping up to be the best night of his life.

A YEAR LATER

Pansy clasped Draco's hands in hers. "Oh, it's going to be so lonely in my flat without you!" she moaned. Draco kissed her on the cheek.

Narcissa and Lucius were the next to make their farewells; Narcissa hugged both men. "You did the right thing," she said to Draco, "not moving in until Harry gave you a ring. It shows that you've had a proper moral upbringing." Hermione, who had just started shacking up with Ron, gave her a dirty look.

Finally, all the guests were gone from the main room of the Leaky Cauldron, which was where the commitment ceremony and reception had been held. It was after midnight, and Harry and Draco went to their honeymoon suite- such as it was- on the top floor. A fire crackled merrily before a shabby, overstuffed couch. Draco draped himself across Harry and nuzzled his neck. "I got you a special gift." He pulled a velvet-covered jeweler's box out of his dress robes. Harry flipped it open to find a lightning-bolt pendant on a fine silver chain. "For some reason, it made me think of you, Scar-Head."

Harry put the necklace on, then handed Draco a package wrapped in the gold paper favored by one of Diagon Alley's most exclusive shops. Draco wondered what it was. A tie of the finest silk, gray to match his eyes? An engraved pocket-watch? Containing his eagerness, he neatly peeled the paper off to reveal a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "Because you've been such a good boy," Harry said, grinning cheekily. "Even your mother thinks so, what with you saving yourself until we got properly hitched."

"I will determine which one is the vomit-flavored one and drop it in your mouth while you're sleeping," Draco said, but he was smiling, too.

"Oh, dear, that's naughty, Draco."

"You'll like it when I'm naughty, I think," Draco said, just before he gave Harry a long, slow, deep kiss. And so it began, the happily ever after part. And it was quite happy.


End file.
